


And all that could have been

by supercilious



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Angst, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-10
Updated: 2012-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:06:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercilious/pseuds/supercilious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-game. Jack finally finishes the most important book he'll ever write.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And all that could have been

**Author's Note:**

> anon request: "write something about post-game!jack marston trying to become a writer please"

> Perhaps not-so-surprisingly, it was hard to get people to take you seriously as an author when your education consisted of being taught to read and write by a gunslinger, and the _nicest_ way to describe your occupation was by explaining that you try _really hard_ not to get into gunfights with people.
> 
> Either way, it was hard to find the energy to write anymore. Managed to get a few stories into the occasional paper under a pseudonym — in exchange for the odd “favor”, of course. Funny how easy it was to for folks to judge until they decided someone needed shooting — it was exhausting. He’d always known life was an uphill struggle, and it wasn’t that he’s impatient. Just…
> 
> Maybe he didn’t want to do this anymore. Maybe writing wasn’t for him. Could be he really was just a murderer’s son and nothing more.
> 
> But he had one book in mind. Been writing it in his head for years now and it’s time to get these words to paper. ‘Cause this one wasn’t about him and silly dreams he’s been half-heartedly chasing. Not even a book he wanted to sell, just something to share with the only person left who’d even give a damn about some old dog who finally quit biting everyone.
> 
> He waited until the morning, bundling up the papers in a satchel and rode down to MacFarlane’s ranch; circling the place until he finally stumbled across Bonnie going about the daily routine. Carefully, Jack slowed the horse next to her and tipped his hat in greeting.
> 
> “Well if it ain’t Jack Marston, come to grace us all with his presence!” Despite herself, she couldn’t help smiling — always a relief to know he was still amongst the living — and gestured towards the house so they could talk away from the gossips. “So what made you remember us mere mortals down here on the ranch. You know I haven’t got any jobs goin’ right now.”
> 
> He laughed, “nothin’ like that, miss MacFarlane. Finally finished that story I been working on. Thought you might give it a read.”
> 
> They talked like that the whole way to the house. Well, ‘like that’ meaning most of the conversation consisted of Jack being intentionally obtuse about just what this story actually consisted of until they were indoors. He hesitated then, suddenly unsure of himself. He wasn’t a bad writer, but this was… Special. The kind of thing that maybe should’ve been done by someone who’d actually stepped foot inside a school.
> 
> He had to try his damndest not to play it down when he opened the satchel and passed the bundle of papers over — ‘it’s nothing important, don’t waste your time with it’ — but he stood in silence instead. Watching as her eyes glanced over the title in quiet approval.
> 
> ‘ _The Day John Marston Stopped Shooting_ ’


End file.
